


Served Cold

by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)



Series: Bloodsport [6]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-14
Updated: 2011-05-14
Packaged: 2017-10-19 10:03:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysapadin/pseuds/Lys%20ap%20Adin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Squalo contemplates the vengeance he's planning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Served Cold

**Author's Note:**

> More vampire AU! General audiences; 691 words.

Squalo waited until the watcher and his fledgling were well away before unmasking his presence and stepping out of the shadows. Tomita had only just clambered to his feet and was swaying on them, weak as any human who'd ever agreed to share blood with a vampire. As dazed and uncertain, too; he did not notice Squalo's approach until Squalo was standing over him.

Careless of him.

Squalo sneered at Tomita, who went wide-eyed and fumbled his way into a drunken crouch when he recognized him, tucking away his fangs in clear submission to Squalo's superior age and strength. "Squalo-san!"

"What did the watcher have to say to his fledgling?" Squalo demanded of him, irritated by that display of the formalities. "Tell me."

Tomita stared up at him, gaze still unfocused. "I… his fledgling?"

"Yes, his fledgling," Squalo said, because he hadn't dared come close enough for either of the watchers to catch his scent as he shadowed them. Not yet. Not until he was ready for that. That precaution meant that anything they said to each other below the level of a shout was inaudible, of course.

Tomita's brow creased. "I—wasn't entirely paying attention," he admitted, fool that he was. "But it seemed to me that he was telling the fledgling _no_. That the fledgling could only join him if he asked for it. And chose to control himself. Something like that." He looked up at Squalo, not so dazed from being fed upon that he didn't have the sense to be worried by the sheer inadequacy of that answer. "Should I pay more attention next time?"

Squalo restrained himself from snarling at the vague description and from venting his anger on Tomita's worthless carcass and seized upon that casual _next time_. "What do you mean, next time?"

Tomita looked a bit sheepish, which was a ridiculous thing for any self-respecting vampire to do. Squalo's claws itched to wipe that look from his face. "He, ah. Seems to like hunting me. Says that I'm almost starting to be interesting. I guess that's why he hasn't actually killed me yet."

The fool even seemed to be proud of that, but Squalo put that inanity aside in favor of the far larger advantage it suggested. "Yes," he said. "Pay attention to them next time." He showed Tomita just enough fang to underline how serious he was. "I will expect a full report."

Tomita inclined his head, showing just enough of his throat to underline his willingness to comply with that command. Squalo snorted and left him then, trusting that he wasn't such an idiot that he couldn't find himself blood and shelter for the day, already busily turning over what he'd learned from Tomita's encounter with the two watchers.

So. The fledgling was beginning to be able to think again and the watcher was taking his training in hand. Squalo bared his fangs, fiercely pleased by that knowledge. It was about _time_ the fledgling had begun to surface from his adolescent frenzy. He'd begun to worry.

Squalo rubbed a hand against his shoulder, massaging the phantom ache lurking there—one of the aches that had settled in most of his joints, these days. The wounds had long since healed and the scars had all but disappeared—he'd drunk often and deeply enough to see to that—but he still felt the places where Yamamoto Tsuyoshi's son had torn him apart. Those aches haunted his days and spoiled the sweetness of every hunt, even now.

But they wouldn't, not forever. The night was coming when he would return the fledgling watcher's favor, would tear him to pieces and leave him to contemplate the approach of dawn. And he would take care that the fledgling watcher would greet that dawn alone, with no watcher to intervene and spare him the true death. Soon, yes, just as soon as the fledgling had the control of himself to appreciate every exquisite moment of Squalo's revenge.

Smiling, Squalo took to the sky to retreat to his lair and contemplate the day he'd deliver his justice and see the Yamamoto line ended for once and for all.


End file.
